I made no memorandum at the time, and I cannot therefore be sure to a day of the date, but I believe I am correct in stating that Miss Halcombe’s serious illness began during the last fortnight or ten days in June.  The breakfast hour was late at Blackwater Park—­ sometimes as late as ten, never earlier than half-past nine.  On the morning to which I am now referring, Miss Halcombe (who was usually the first to come down) did not make her appearance at the table.  After the family had waited a quarter of an hour, the upper housemaid was sent to see after her, and came running out of the room dreadfully frightened.  I met the servant on the stairs, and went at once to Miss Halcombe to see what was the matter.  The poor lady was incapable of telling me.  She was walking about her room with a pen in her hand, quite light-headed, in a state of burning fever.

Lady Glyde (being no longer in Sir Percival’s service, I may, without impropriety, mention my former mistress by her name, instead of calling her my lady) was the first to come in from her own bedroom.  She was so dreadfully alarmed and distressed that she was quite useless.  The Count Fosco, and his lady, who came upstairs immediately afterwards, were both most serviceable and kind.  Her ladyship assisted me to get Miss Halcombe to her bed.  His lordship the Count remained in the sitting-room, and having sent for my medicine-chest, made a mixture for Miss Halcombe, and a cooling lotion to be applied to her head, so as to lose no time before the doctor came.  We applied the lotion, but we could not get her to take the mixture.  Sir Percival undertook to send for the doctor.  He despatched a groom, on horseback, for the nearest medical man, Mr. Dawson, of Oak Lodge.

Mr. Dawson arrived in less than an hour’s time.  He was a respectable elderly man, well known all round the country, and we were much alarmed when we found that he considered the case to be a very serious one.

His lordship the Count affably entered into conversation with Mr. Dawson, and gave his opinions with a judicious freedom.  Mr. Dawson, not over-courteously, inquired if his lordship’s advice was the advice of a doctor, and being informed that it was the advice of one who had studied medicine unprofessionally, replied that he was not accustomed to consult with amateur physicians.  The Count, with truly Christian meekness of temper, smiled and left the room.  Before he went out he told me that he might be found, in case he was wanted in the course of the day, at the boat-house on the banks of the lake.  Why he should have gone there, I cannot say.  But he did go, remaining away the whole day till seven o’clock, which was dinner-time.  Perhaps he wished to set the example of keeping the house as quiet as possible.  It was entirely in his character to do so.  He was a most considerate nobleman.